


the rubble or our sins

by aphwhales



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Android Lil Hal, Gen, One Shot, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 20:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphwhales/pseuds/aphwhales
Summary: “Let Hal do it,” she says. Dirk nearly trips in his rush and surprise





	the rubble or our sins

You set out the hot water jerkily, and Dirk catches it before it can fall onto your table. Equius is out somewhere with Nepeta today, so it’s just you and Dirk. 

And your sort of ecto-kids, soon. Sort of, because technically they have Dirk’s DNA, not yours, but also sort of, because you and Dirk have what is essentially the exact same brain. Or, used to be the exact same brain. 

If you think too hard about this, you’re going to end up overheating. 

At any rate, you want to meet Dave and Rose. You’ve talked to them before, of course, as Arquiusprite, but Dave usually didn’t pay attention to you, and Rose merely chuckled her odd laugh at your antics.

Dirk sets some mugs onto the table with a clank, and you jolt. He gives you an odd look, but you just shake your head and move to find the box where the tea is kept. You pull it from the counter and place it on the table. 

Dirk isn’t wearing his shades, but you are, for once. You know that Dave is shy, and you’re hoping that something familiar, such as your shades, might help him relax around you. 

Dirk proves that wrong, though. He plucks your shades - identical to his, but reddish instead of black - right off your face. You can feel some of the circuitry under your right ocular sensor flicker in indignation. 

“You really don’t want to be wearing those around Dave, trust me,” He tells you, setting them on the coffee table in your living room. You frown. 

“My calculations showed that humans relax more around the things they are familiar with, bro.” 

“Yeah, well,” Dirk sighs, pushes a hand through his hair. “Our shades might be familiar, but. They definitely won’t help him relax.”

They might have helped _you_ relax, though. Your circuitry flickers again under your right eye, faster this time. Dirk just huffs and sits down, maintaining a perfect poker face. 

You, unfortunately, do not have the power over your body language and facial features that Dirk has. Years of living in cyberspace with no input from anything besides movies and the internet has left you vulnerable to making unconscious facial expressions that give away your every emotion. It’s… not a weakness, per se. It’s just another thing that makes you different from Dirk. So you should be glad about it, you suppose. 

Both you and Dirk jump at the knock on the door. It’s not loud, but living alone for however many years does that to you. Rose is the one knocking, most likely; while it has some rhythm, it doesn’t have the steady, measured tempo that you’ve come to expect from any noise a Time player makes. 

“Door’s open,” You call. You wonder if they’ll think Dirk said it. Your voice is extraordinarily similar to his. It’s a little more mechanical, a little more hollow. But it’s yours, and you prefer it. 

Rose appears first, as predicted. She looks only mildly surprised; you aren’t much different from Dirk, save the white hair and red and black eyes, and your skinless metal-and-circuit limbs. And your aural sensors, and the circuits on your face under your ocular sensors...

Actually, you’re a lot different from Dirk. This is a good thing, you tell yourself. 

Dave is hiding behind her, scratching idly at his shirt sleeve. It’s Karkat’s shirt, definitely - it hangs on him and has a gray Cancer symbol on it. He looks rather anxious, and when he looks up and meets your eyes, he flinches, then freezes. Rose places a hand on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly and snaps out of it. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you tell them, genuinely happy. Dave still looks slightly freaked out. Rose smiles back at you, and Dirk rubs at the back of his neck. Dave, at least, has inherited all of his ecto-father’s awkwardness. 

Rose takes the lead to drag the rest of you to the couch; Dirk perches on one of the arms, and Dave takes the opposite side. Rose settles gracefully on the armchair Nepeta tends to occupy when she comes over, probably getting her long skirt covered in cat hair in the process. You decide on shoving Dirk slightly and taking the spot on the couch next to where he’s squatting. He squawks a bit before rocking forward and landing in your lap. 

Dave flinches again. You raise an eyebrow at Rose, who pretends not to notice and appears very engrossed in her cup of lavender tea. Dirk, still on your lap, flicks your thigh and grunts. 

This is so awkward. Why is this happening. You text Dirk: 

timaeusTranscribed [TT]   
began pestering  timaeusTestified [TT] 

TT: Dirk. Two questions. One, why are we all so fucking awkward?  
TT: Because we’ve all got my genes, probably. The awkwardness is a certified Strider Trait  
TT: Passing on your genes was, obviously, a huge fucking mistake, bro.  
TT: Fuck off.  
TT: Someone’s testy today.  
TT: Anyway. Question two.  
TT: Dave seems very uncomfortable. Why is that?

Dirk doesn’t answer, and just tap-tap-taps his fingers on your right thigh. You frown at him and pester him some more, but he doesn’t respond. Dave gets up a few moments later, mumbling something about using the bathroom. 

Rose just stares at you and Dirk after Dave disappears into the small bathroom. You think a bit too late to warn him about the mirror that Equius accidently shattered last week. Dirk snaps first. “What, Rose?” 

“You didn’t tell Hal about…” 

“No. It’s not mine to tell, is it?” He seems more than a bit uncomfortable, shifting slightly. “I didn’t think Hal looked enough like me to…”

Rose sighs. “Well,” she says, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “We should probably catch you up. You do, evidently, look quite a bit like Dirk, who in turn looks quite a bit like Dave’s Bro. Which makes sense, since you’re both versions of him from the post-scratch universe.” 

“What does that have to do with us, now?” You reply. “From what I know, he’s been dead since before you all scratched your session, hasn’t he?” 

“Yes,” Rose confirms. “Sort of. Technically, we _could_ still consider him as alive, because Dirk has his memories.” Dirk looks more than a bit uncomfortable with this idea. Interesting. You don’t have anyone’s memories; you had a few other timelines, but no splinters from the other side of the scratch as everyone else did. “However, it’s irrelevant when we consider Dave’s situation.” 

“And that situation is,” you pry, waving your hand in a sort of “get on with it” gesture. Dirk elbows you when you accidently hit him in the head; you don’t really have a good relationship with spatial intelligence, yet.

Rose starts speaking, but you don’t hear it over the noise of something being shattered - the remains of the mirror, perhaps, or one of the lightbulbs you and Equius haven’t gotten around to fixing. Dirk shoots up from your lap and hits you _hard_ in the chin. Rose frowns as Dirk stands up. 

“Let Hal do it,” she says. Dirk nearly trips in his rush and surprise. 

“Is that a good idea?” Dirk replies incredulously. “Hal doesn’t know…” 

“Well, he can know now,” Rose tells Dirk testily, before turning to you. “Hal, the whole issue is that Dave’s brother was very abusive towards him. But I believe he’ll inform you as to where you stand if you two talk alone.” She glances at the shades on the coffee table, and then pushes you gently towards the bathroom. “Try not to make sudden movements.” 

You brace yourself on the wall as you walk away from Rose; your kinesthetic sense has, once again, failed you, surprising absolutely no one. Behind you, Rose and Dirk clatter towards the kitchen, bringing empty mugs and used tea bags with them. If you could, you would gulp. You’re nervous, again, surprising no one. You’re a splinter off Dirk, _of course_ you got stuck with a least half the anxiety he’s got.

The bathroom is silent to anyone without your aural senses. Dave is breathing heavily inside - hyperventilating, maybe. 

“Don’t come in.” Dave says when you knock.  
You allow yourself this: “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave.” Then, you add, “Rose told me I should talk to you.” 

“Oh my god - fine. It’s not locked anyway.”  
“Do… you really not want me to come in?” You hesitate before grabbing the handle. 

“I literally don’t give a fuck, it’s fine, it’s fine…” You open the door. Dave is crouched on the toilet seat. There are shards from the mirror on the floor, but you don’t spare any time for them. Not much, anyway. You do dampen your pain response on the soles of you feet - that way, you can walk over to Dave and not worry about having to pick up the mirror pieces first. 

You pick up a few anyway, hoping that not focusing on Dave will help him calm down a bit, because he’s still hyperventilating. A particularly jagged edge catches you off guard, and you hiss audibly as it digs into the silicon on your palm. Something clatters to the floor, and when you look up, you see Dave is practically frozen with fear.

You place the shards in the sink very slowly, and grab a roll of electrical tape from the medicine cabinet, before sitting on the bathmat in front of the sink. Dave is to your left, still on the toilet, and you practically feel him relax when you begin rolling the tape methodically around the gouge in your palm. 

Finally, he says, “Why did you come in here?”  
“We heard the crash, and Rose said that I should come and check on you,” you tell him. You stand up to replace the tape, and he shrinks back towards the shower curtain. You hold your hands up, mismatched now, in a non-threatening manner. 

“I… don’t know what you’re expecting,” you say as you sit again. “But I promise that I won’t hurt you.” 

Dave nods, and mumbles, “I know, I - ugh. I know that. I just… I don’t know, I don’t want to acknowledge that?” 

“Stimulus generalization is very common in post-traumatic stress disorder, bro. I would not be surprised - or offended, for that matter - if I am the cause of your anxiety.” 

“You’re just,” He isn’t hyperventilating anymore, but he’s still breathing deeply and rhythmically. “It’s. It’s harder to ignore the differences on you,” he tells you after a bit. “You’re not as scrawny as Dirk, and you’re taller…” 

“If your bro was anything like Dirk, he probably did not show emotions, yeah?” 

“I don’t know where you’re going with this… but yeah,” Dave agrees with a quizzical look. 

“Well,” you begin, trying to ignore the pulsing red under your right eye and hoping he doesn’t make the connection Dirk did. “I am not as practiced as Dirk in hiding my emotions. And I don’t wear my shades as often.” You resist the urge to scratch out the circuits under your eye. 

Dave nods slowly, and says something under his breath. You don’t ask. He doesn’t tell you. He also doesn’t acknowledge the flashing red under your eye. 

You’ve already got a system going with him, you suppose, as you follow him out of the bathroom later. You don’t even have to agree to never speak of this again - you already know neither of you will. Especially not to Rose, based on the smirk she’s wearing as she sits at the table with Dirk.

**Author's Note:**

> rose is not a liscensed therapist Do Not take her advice
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](flotsems.tumblr.com)


End file.
